A Stitchpunk's Christmas Carol
by Mable
Summary: One is a cruel, greedy, and overbearing miser who enjoys to spread misery and despised Christmas. Because of his ways, he is soon visited by three spirits determined to show him what he has lost and what he will lost, but does One still have time to change and does he even want to?


**Mable: One of two fics I am posting for the Holiday season. They aren't connected so you don't have to read one to understand the other. This is also Alternate Universe, technically. A Christmas Carol was originally made by Charles Dickens and many parodies have been made from it; this one is mine. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!**

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_**A Stitchpunk's Christmas Carol**_

Once upon a time in the beautiful city of Luxembourg it was a cold winter. Still Stitchpunks joyously wandered through the snowfall as they prepared for the upcoming holiday; Christmas. Not everyone was in the holiday mood, though. There was one who despised the cheer and delight of Christmas and cast it aside. His name was One and he was not only the wealthiest Stitchpunk in town, but planned to keep it that way under any situation necessary. You see, he was a miser, whose only joy was to collect money and expand his ever growing wealth.

It wasn't exactly known why One despised Christmas so much. Maybe it was because he had no family to share it with, maybe it developed in his childhood, it was quite unclear. However, he didn't like it, and that was that. It didn't help that recently a friend of his had passed away and, not only seemed somewhat close to One, but decided to be buried with his funds. One didn't know whether to be disturbed at the fact that he was buried with money or annoyed that his closest friend hadn't passed anything to him. This, of course, would be his wealth.

In his counting house he waited and counted, worked and pondered, and only occasionally addressed his employee. Entering the small office once again he noticed that his clerk was not where he ought to be. Instead of being at his desk, he was at the meager cauldron in the corner, attempting to warm his hands above the few, dim coals. "And why, pray tell, are you slacking _again_?" The last time that Nine was 'slacking' he was merely trying to warm the ink which he claimed was frozen. One doubted this and was ready to accuse Nine of simply not doing his work.

"Just warming my hands." Nine insisted with a small smile, "It's getting hand to write because they're going stiff." The Leader gave an exasperated look, "Well, hurry up with that and return to you work. You are wasting precious time. Unless, of course, you would rather I find a more suitable candidate for the job?" Nine looked alarmed, "No, wait! I just- Yes Sir." He looked defeated and One was willing to accept that look readily, watching Nine return to his desk and begin to work once again. He watched him closely to make sure he was doing his job and doing it right.

That was when the front door opened and let in none other than Five. He was smiling, a surprise that anyone would do so around One willingly, and looked quite happy. "Merry Christmas everyone! And a Happy-." One cut him off, "If you are going to start with that then you can go right back outside." Five wasn't surprised by the outburst; this was a normal reaction from One. Five was not One's relative, but the adopted son of Two; a previous friend of One's who One now disregarded. Though Two frequently tried little tricks to get One and him speaking again.

This had to be one of them. "You are tracking in snow." He pointed out and Five tried to kick it off, "Yeah, it is getting deep out there. It's pretty cold." Then he shut the door and paused, "Actually it's a little cold inside too." One huffed in agitation, "What _is _it_, _Five?" Noticing the other's annoyance, Five was quick, his words rushing out. "Well, I, Two was hoping that you could come share dinner with us on Christmas. He's going to be making quite a nice dinner and- and- he wanted to know if you were coming."

"If I was coming." One scoffed, "You two should be worried about yourself. I know of Two's lust for this foolish holiday and he will spend so much on this winter that there will be none left for the next!" Five actually looked a little insulted and quietly responded, "It's not foolish…" One scoffed, "I do not know what else to call wasting money to by trinkets and toys for ungrateful children. Perhaps it is nice for the economy, but hundreds on the bottom are foolishly forgoing a route to make something of themselves."

He started towards his office when Five spoke up, "But that's not the point. The point is to be around people care about you. Family and friends; it's not just about the presents." One retorted with a, "Bah! Humbug!" Then fled into his office, slamming the door behind him. Five and Nine both winced at the slam. Then, Five slowly looked over, "Did he just swear at me or…?" Nine shrugged a bit and turned back to his work. That's when Five spoke up, "Well, you know, you could always come to dinner. I'm sure we'd have enough."

"It's alright." Nine insisted, "We've got enough for dinner. Besides, None shouldn't be leaving the house this time of year." The Healer winced at the mention almost as badly as he winced at the door, "How… How is he?" The zippered male turned to his work as he answered with an upbeat tone, "Good! A lot better than before!" Unfortunately, though, he wasn't telling the truth, and Five knew it. At that second One slammed the door back open, now dressed in his outer coat and such, "Are you still here?" He asked Five before waving it off, "It does not matter. Nine, I am heading home, lock up."

"Sir, wait." Nine stood and stopped him at the door, "Could I get Christmas off? I'd like to be with my family." One was about to unleash on him when he paused. Imagining carolers running past the office, cheer everywhere, lights a constant, Christmas everywhere; not even he wanted to leave home and face something so dreadful. "Very well, but do not expect me to pay you, and I expect my laundry to be finished by time you return." Nine smiled, "Thank you." With that, One pulled open the door, and was stopped again. This time it was Five, "So, about dinner-?" He was met with the door closing in his face.

One stormed down the few stone steps and into the snow outside the building. "What rubbish." He muttered to himself as he started down the icy street, managing to not slip on the sheet of ice beneath the white snow. "Ah, why such behavior about Christmas? Everywhere you look; dinners and puddings, toys and candy, and the forsaken carolers chiming their songs of false joy. Joy? Pah! Christmas is merely a time when Stitchpunks get intoxicated off of wasting any amount of wealth, foolishly believing they will get something in return."

Near the front gates of his home, looming high with sharp, iron bars, rested a group of Stitchpunks packing boxes and such full of hole filled clothes and small packages of food. Obviously some sort of mission. The woman running the event was a pale skinned Stitchpunk who stopped him. "Could you spare for the poor?" One scoffed, "There's a homeless shelter down the street. Why must I give a cent when they can?" The female was clearly disturbed and yet continued to stay civil, even though annoyed by the older Stitchpunk's comment.

"We _are _from the homeless shelter and we are simply asking for other good doing people to pitch in. It's the season of giving." One retorted, "No, obviously it is the season of taking. Take, take, take. Is it my fault that the homeless cannot sustain work? No, it is not. I worked for every cent and I am proud to keep it!" The woman gaped before clearly glaring, "You act like they choose to be homeless! That's not how it works and only a narrow minded, egotistical blowhard would think himself higher simply because of his wealth!"

"Such confident words from a woman who looks as though she had to scavenge for her things from one of those bins of filthy clothing." One added in before she could stop him and she was even more insulted. She nearly looked like she would erupt and he swore that her white fabric was soon to go red. "How dare you!" She started. At this second another Stitchpunk zoomed over, a male, "Seven, it's not worth fighting about." He insisted before somewhat pulling the fuming woman away. He then turned to One and gave a pitiful, chaste in a way to seem polite while trying to end the entire conversation, "Merry Christmas."

One straightened himself and started off without a word. He had proven his point and held himself high at this. After all, he could tell that she was near the level of living in a shelter herself, and that made him higher than her in every sense of the word. He entered into his gate and closed it tight behind him. One's home was a loft mansion with elegant stained glass windows cloaked with deep red curtains. The wooden floors and elegant staircase were made all of mahogany, occasionally a room would be found with marble floors instead though.

All of the furniture was equally as beautiful. From long, candle topped tables to tall, grandfather's clocks that chimed at the same time on the hour. There were only a few servants in the mansion and they all worked decently well. They gave their Master his distance, which he preferred. Dinner was quiet and uneventful as usual. Then, afterward, One moved into his chambers. He retreated into his favorite and most comfortable chair that was pulled up beside the large, warm fireplace.

With a cup of warm tea at his side and a book in his grasp, One was content to ignore the world outside. He had drew the thick curtains over the windows to block out the snowfall outside. It was droning late and he was beginning to nod off when the oddest thing occurred. A soft murmur, a rattle nearby, and One placed his book down. "Mary Anne?" He asked, wondering if the maid was cleaning the hall outside his room. However, he then realized that it was quite late for any of the servants to be outside their chambers. Being that their chambers were in the opposite wing, this too was confusing.

He shook his head and looked back into his book. One reached over and lifted a tea cup, taking a small sip. He was interrupted by a sudden crashing noise outside his bedroom and dropped his cup to the floor where it spilled the liquid across the red carpet. He stood and crossed to the door, opening it wide and staring down the long hall. It was a decorative vase that had fallen to the ground and shattered. The window above it was wide open as well and spilt in cold air. One exhaled in annoyance, assuming someone left the window unhinged.

The window was shut and bolted while the vase was left alone. Most likely Mary Anne would get to it in the morning and that was all that mattered. One entered back into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Because he felt unnerved, One decided to lock the door, and then turned to the rest of the room. That was when he noticed the spilled tea. "What…?" He asked softly as he approached the spill. The stain should have been a bit dark, but it was nearly black, and was steadily spreading even though the small teacup was clearly empty.

Then it grew more rapid and spread even farther, the fireplace flickered, and One backed against the door as a figure rose from the carpet. The Stitchpunk made a horrified cry and cowered back as the figure turned into another Stitchpunk. The dark liquid dribbled away and revealed a nearly translucent form before him of a doll, cloaked in chains and heavy boxes, with holes beginning to form in its fabric to reveal the metal beneath. Still, One managed to recognize the figure, and spoke, "Eugene?... Is that you?"

The soul was a grayish color, which was odd when a normal soul was a greenish, and it nodded, "Aye, One. It is me." One was in near disbelief, but couldn't doubt his eyes. Though, frankly, he began to wonder if he had either lost his mind or was dreaming this entire event. Eugene crossed to the fire, chains rattling as he drug them, "One, you were my closest mate, and I have come only to warn you of what's to come." The Leader slipped to his chair, sitting down and hoping to calm himself so that the illusion would vanish, "Warn me? Of what?"

"Of your ways, One. You have become filled with greed and a loathing for the world. A greed that will end you in the same situation as I." Eugene lifted his chains dramatically, "As comeuppance for me sins, I have been tasked to walk the depths of the underworld carrying these chains. This is my punishment for my greed." He pointed forward with a claw-like hand, "And you will be next if you don't change!" One sputtered in disbelief, "But I- But if I remember correctly," He turned firm, "You were much worse than I. I would have left you something in my will."

"Would you now?" Eugene retorted, "Every day you spend like this you turn colder and even more empty inside. This has to change or you'll be set with yer own set of chains. I was buried with my gold and now I suffer with my gold, dragging it for eternity, and let me say that you won't need gold where you're going." Now One was disturbed and the spirit continued. "Tonight, three ghosts will visit you and show you the results of your actions. You have to face them or else you'll suffer as I am."

Then he started to fade back into the ground and One stood, "Eugene wait!" He called, "Ghosts? Coming into my home? You must be-." He was going to say 'daft', but then he realized that he was yelling at an actual ghost already. The stain shrunk down to a normal tea stain and One collapsed in his chair. He was confused and unsure, not certain if his optics were failing him or not. He couldn't return to his book and instead decided to simply go to bed. "I-I am simply tired. I am… hallucinating from exhaustion. It is nearly midnight. It is that simple. Ghosts, really, Eugene must be- I must be losing my mind."

He was still terrified and discarded his cape. He blew out the candle and pulled the curtains around his bed closed. Then he laid down in his bed and forced himself to sleep. He didn't stay asleep very long, though. In the middle of the night, not much longer afterward, the curtains flew open on the side of his bed. The fire was blown out by the gush of wind and he awoke with a start. Beside his bed was yet another figure. Shorter than him and pale in fabric.

His neck was wrapped in a holly wreath that hung down like a scarf and wrapped further around his right leg before circling and finishing at his ankle. He had blackened striped upon himself, but occasionally they'd take a greenish or reddish tint. They didn't seem to do this fluidly or on a timely basis. He had dark, brown tuft of yarn on his head. The tips ended in a glow like candle wicks that were alit in dull flames, leaving the top just a foggy glow of brightness. The Stitchpunk's face was also striped, with mismatched optics and a sweet smile.

"Hello, One!" He chimed brightly with a sweet tone and One's face contorted into confusion as he pulled the blankets up higher. "Who are you? A, ugh, some sort of ghost?" The creature nodded and gave a small bow, "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. Of the joys and sorrows from the years before ours. I have come to show you the life you had before now." He stretched out his hand in invitation, but the sharp fingers, that looked like fountain pen tips, turned One away. He backed in disturbance, "I am not completely daft yet. I remember what happened before now. I do not need you to-."

He cried out in horror as the Ghost of the Past grabbed his hand and easily yanked him out of bed. He stumbled to his feet and looked up in horror, "Are you mad?! Why on Earth- Let go!" He tried to tug his hand back only to have their hands fused together almost. No matter how he pried away, the Ghost stayed firm, and answered his question, "Maybe a little." He hinted before lifting his other hand, the large window in the corner of the room bursting open in response.

One looked to the ghost in terror as the ghost spoke again, "Maybe a lot." Then he grabbed One's other hand with his own and started to run backwards towards the open window. He leapt through, dragging One with him, and One watched as they nearly flew out of the window and through the air. At first he thought they were flying until they both began to steadily plummet toward a rooftop. They hit the roof's arch, slid down through the snow topping it, and stopped upon the rooftop.

The Ghost of Christmas Past released One's second hand, the first still locked together. "Here, I want to show you something." He then turned around and began to dash towards the edge of the roof. One tried to resist, but was unable. The Ghost leapt from the roof, dragging the Stitchpunk with him. It was almost as though he could jump incredibly far and soon landing on the next house, scaling the arched roof, leaping over snow cover weathervanes, and sliding down the next edge before leaping off at the bottom. One helplessly tried to stay upright during the event but, thankfully, seemed to be numb to the event.

Soon they reached a warehouse where the Ghost hopped down from the roof into a mound of snow. Then crawled over to the window, "Come look." His optics were wide with wonder and One was enticed, but didn't really have a choice because their hands were still conjoined. He peered in the window and gasped at the sight. The warehouse was alit with makeshift decorations and a delightful glow. Stitchpunks danced in the candlelight and laughed in merriment.

"It is the past… This warehouse has not been used for years and…" His optics landed on a male in the corner, delightfully talking to the others, and he gasped. "Julius… Creator, to see him again. He was my mentor. He took such care of me." The Ghost of Christmas Past prodded One with a question, "You were close with him?" One nodded, "I certainly was. He was a father to me… Such a shame when he passed I… I was at his memorial. Along with most of the town. He was very well loved."

The One noticed someone else standing to the side. A male Stitchpunk speaking to another, shorter male, both smiling, the taller a smaller, shy smile, the shorter laughing. The most distinct feature was the Stitchpunk's sharp optics. "That's me… I was merely a child." He actually felt a small smile as he noticed the other Stitchpunk lean forward and touch his shoulder tenderly. "Who is that?" The Ghost asked curiously and One explained, "That is Two. We were very close friends."

"I don't think so." The ghost chimed in, knowingly, playfully, "I don't think you were friends." One stared back into the room and watched the two young Stitchpunks. His younger self was leaning in to mutter something to younger Two who chuckled lightly before getting quite an embarrassed look. It was not a disappointed look, though. One exhaled and answered wistfully, "No, we were not. Two and I… Were lovers. Julius was his father, which was how we met, and we spent quite a few nights wrapped in each other's embrace."

That when he was tugged by his hand and he looked over to the Ghost who had a small smile, almost a sadder one, "I have more to show you. Can't spend all night here." One looked back inside and, for the first time in ages, felt a longing for the olden days. "Yes… I suppose we can't…" He wandered down the snow covered street with the Ghost of Christmas Past who hopped about in the snow playfully. Unfortunately, it yanked One along with him, "If you do not mind-." He was interrupted when the Ghost pointed out, "We're here!"

Dodging the arm that almost hit him, One looked over. There was a building before them, a large church, and the Ghost led One to a window and pointed inside. One immediately gasped in alarm at the scene, "Dear Lord." He muttered as he stared into the current ceremony. Before the congregation was an open casket, but One couldn't see inside at this angle. He could see his younger form sitting nearby, optics closed, beside Two who looked nearly devastated. Many other Stitchpunks resided in the church, sobbing and whimpering, and One spoke, "This was… Julius' funeral."

"That's when it changed." The Ghost explained, his mood plummeting as his voice changed to a dismal tone, "You changed." One looked away, unwilling to admit that Julius' funeral caused anything other than some sadness. "I became wiser." He pointed out and the Ghost pulled him back from the window. "I think _he _disagrees." He suggested and gestured at something behind them. One looked back to see that they were now in an ally and behind them was another building, and he could see through a clear window into the room inside.

"The counting house?" He asked the ghost before being interrupted by the scene. A younger Two was standing near a younger One who was sat at his desk. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but could see the lip movement and recognized the memory to well to forget. Two was worriedly asking why One wouldn't talk to him anymore. One insisted this wasn't the case and dismissed Two. Two suggested that all One did was count his money and asked if it had to do with Julius' passing. One immediately erupted and commanded Two to leave.

"We never... We were never the same after that… Our ties were practically ended except a few brief moments." The ghost of Christmas Past spoke again, "That's not true either. He's still been reaching out to you, but you've been forcing him away, because you were never able to get close to anyone again. Were you afraid you would lose them too? I don't even think you know." The solemn tone took One aback and he stared at the Stitchpunk, unable to speak, and then the ghost exhaled before forcing a smile.

"Well, time to get you back home." He suddenly leapt back into the air, almost like they were gliding again. Six and One were spinning around each other in a deluded mess. They managed to land straight into One's bedroom again and he assumed that the ghost didn't want to waste time getting back. Once there, the Ghost of Christmas Past finally released his hand. "Now that you've seen the past, you can only move forward. The past cannot be changed, it will always remain, but that doesn't mean that it can control the future… Or the present." Then he crossed to the window, looked back at One, and vanished in a bright spark.

The window slammed shut and One stared after him. Then he slowly retreated to bed, exhausted and confused, and crawled back inside simply. Still unsure what this event was, he closed the curtain of his bed. Promptly after he heard a dull knocking and opened them back again. He expected Mary Anne had heard the noise as was knocking on the door, but instead he was alarmed by a figure in his chair. It was a tall, broad figure, leaning to the side in a relaxed position. One arm was across his chest as though he had been crossing his arms.

The other was on the mantle, which he had been knocking on, and in the dim light One could see little. "Are you the second?" The figure spoke up, deeper voice that the first, "You could say that. Here, let me get the lights." He lit a match that seemed to materialize in his hand and lit a candle on the small table beside the chair. The second it lit, the entire room enveloped in light. One gasped in surprise as he watched his room transform into something much different.

There was a chandelier in One's room, but he seldom used it. Now it alit in fresh candles and garland that trailed around its frame and to the walls. Holly and garland was tacked to all of the walls and dropped down the walls to the floor that was covered with an assortment of various foods. Turkeys and Hams, fruits and puddings, rosy red apples and boiled potatoes, bottles of wine, some of which poured out like a fountain into goblets that seemed to never overfill. The mantle was even decorated with a series of candles and ornaments. One could even see toys, oddly enough, stacked behind him on the bed.

"So you must be the ghost of Christmas gluttony." One responded while seeing the array of food. "Close enough." The Ghost stood and was certainly tall. He wore a long green robe with a crown upon his head that looked to almost be made of ice, decorated with the ruby berries of holly. A strand made of mistletoe stretched around his neck as well. He grabbed the candle and One watched as the glow brightened and obscured it briefly, then revealed a golden torch. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Present and I'm here to show you what's going on now."

"I already know what is occurring now." One insisted and the taller retorted with a shrug, "If you did I wouldn't be here. Come on, we don't have much time." He wasn't sure why the Ghosts kept saying that but exhaled. "We will be leaving as well? Can you not show me what is occurring from here?" The Ghost immediately retorted, "No. Now come on." He looked at the floor, "After we get past all this 'joy' hanging around." One certainly didn't want to wrestle through the meal, but couldn't deny that it looked quite delicious.

At the window, the Ghost of Christmas Present shoved it open easily, then looked to One. "Alright, let's go." Before the Leader could get away, the taller leaned down and grabbed ahold of him, lifting him onto his shoulders. "You're going to want to hold on." Remembering the Ghost of Christmas Past's means of transport One didn't argue and merely clutched on. He didn't doubt that this ghost was well prepared to force him to go. The Ghost then leapt out the window. Instead of flying out like the other, the ghost dropped like a ton of stones into the snow.

It was almost as though he went through the snow and popped out on the other side. As though he appeared underground, but having the underground actually being the same world. They were in the middle of the street and the Ghost of Christmas Present started down the road. "That's what a family looks like." He pointed out and One looked into the nearby homes and scoffed, "Again, I have seen families before." Eight spoke up, "Yeah, but you don't know what they are, because you don't have one."

"Excuse me?" One demanded and the Ghost pointed. "Look in there. Look at that." The Leader peered into the home and could see a nice sight. Three older woman sat around in a sitting room, knitting together what looked like stuffed animals that were most likely to be presents for children. There was hung garland on their mantle as well and the two woman he could see the faces of were chatting happily, no doubt that the third was as well. The Ghost continued along, "Or that one."

One peered ahead and looked in surprised. There was a table of people dining, or they had looked like they finished dinner and were merely speaking. The woman farthest away was still recognizable as Seven, the woman he had confronted this morning, and the male she had been with was sitting by her side. He guessed that they were a couple and that the others were probably family. Because of the fight, he had immediately disliked her, but now here he saw her as a real Stitchpunk, smiling as well and looking content.

His leg was tapped and he was pointed to a larger house, into the depths of some bay windows. Again, One recognized the Stitchpunks who were decorating the tree. Holding a small step ladder was Five who looked up with a smile, but still a concerned look. At the top of the ladder, working on hanging things on the tree, was none other than Five's mentor; Two. One had not seen him in some time, but he was still radiant as usual. Beaming and laughing joyously as he came with more ideas to decorate the trees.

"Two was always so imaginative." One quoted quietly, closing his optics and looking ahead only to wince. "Where _are _we?" he asked in alarm at the buildings around him that looked like mere shacks falling apart. Small and filled with holes and broken windows. Caved in portions of roof were also common as well. One was clearly disturbed and the Ghost of Christmas Present spoke, "Don't worry, we're almost there." Soon they came upon one of the most pitiful houses of all, looking only two tiny floors and with one entire floor being a room. Nothing more than a loft resided up the small steps.

The Ghost sat down One, "Enjoy the ride?" One nodded a bit, "it was… Less hectic than the Ghost of Christmas Past's means of transport." The taller nodded, "He's got a few lose screws, but I'm not about to argue with him." Then he gestured inside, "I'm guessing you recognize him." One looked in and blinked as he noticed it. The room was small with a torn apart armchair that was losing its stuffing, a table with a few unsteady chairs, a small fireplace with a pot bubbling inside, and a tree in the corner.

Though calling it a tree was a mighty stretch. It more looked like a barren twig with handmade ornaments. Some were made of little bits of wood and some were mere ribbons. Two small Stitchpunks who looked exactly the same, twins most likely, were decorating the tree. They were working very well, seemingly happy even though they had nothing under the tree. They looked to be females from what he noticed and on their front was a Three and a Four. That wasn't the main thing that caught his interest.

At that table, working on something, was none other than Nine. One couldn't fathom in his wildest thought that this had been what Nine lived like. Because of the ajar window, which One guessed wouldn't close any farther, he could hear speaking. Nine called up the stairs, "You need help?" there was a dull thumping noise that One could hear, but he didn't notice until it appeared on the steps. "I'm okay." A voice responded that sounded eerily like Nine's own.

Then appeared the source of both the noise and the voice. On the steps, limping down with a pair of crooked, wooden crutches, was a Stitchpunk that looked exactly like Nine did. One gawked, "Another Nine?" Of course he knew this was foolish and went to correct himself, but the Ghost of Christmas Present beat him to it. "That's Nine's twin brother, None, and those are their little sisters." One was greatly confused that he hadn't known of Nine's family. Why, Nine was young enough that he thought he still lived with parents. "It is just them?"

The Ghost nodded. None limped across the floor with the crutches and helped Nine set the table. Looking surprised, "How'd you manage to get all of this?" Nine shrugged with a slightly pleased smile, "I just saved up a bit, took a few odd jobs." Now One looked at the Ghost once again, "Why is he limping so?" The taller crossed his arms and explained, "An accident a while back caused something in him to stop working right. Now, without treatment, he's getting worse."

"But Two." One protested, "Nine knows Five, why does he not ask Two to assist? Two is nearly the best Healer in all of Luxembourg." The Ghost shook his head, "It doesn't work that way. They need a certain part, so Two's defenseless on his own, and he can't afford to finance the surgery." This was disturbing, but not as disturbing as when he actually saw the dinner before them. "That bird looks the size of a pigeon!" he spoke up, pointing to the small, roast bird on the table. The Ghost chuckled a bit, "That's because it is a pigeon."

One choked at the thought. It didn't help that there was little else except a few vegetables and yet they were all acting like it was a feast. They sat down and began to pray as One looked to the pot on the fire. "Why do they not eat what is in there?" He asked and the Ghost shook his head. The leader inwardly winced, "Do not tell me; that is my laundry." He didn't have to get a response and went defensive, "I gave it to him three days ago. It is not my fault that he waited for tonight, is it?"

"No, but maybe you paying him as little is possible explains why that," he gestured to the pigeon, "Is a feast." Now One felt ashamed and hung his head. He actually felt badly for Nine; never knowing that he had been living like this. He could hear them mention him. "One's giving me the day off tomorrow." None perked and the twins smiled. "Really?" he asked in elation, "Great! We can actually send some time together. You're always working." Nine shrugged it off, "Well…. One can be a little demanding at times."

"Or a complete fool." One finished before pulling away, "What now?" He asked and the Ghost of Christmas Present helped him back onto his back. "We got to get back. You've got someone else visiting you tonight and we're done here." He wandered back down the street and to a hole in the snow, jumping through so hard that they were both flung into the room again. Well, nearly, as One was dropped inside, and Eight was perched outside the window. Preparing to take his leave most likely.

"Take care, One." The Ghost of Christmas Past merely said before looking past him, "You'll need it." Then he dropped back and disappeared. The windows slammed shut and the curtains followed them closed. One then turned around as he noticed that there was still a light behind him and was now facing the fireplace that was alit in a warm glow. The fire had been restarted. He noticed that another Stitchpunk was in his chair and stared. He could only see a black cloak draping its frame as it rested with what looked like a wine glass cradled in its grasp.

It was definitely not wine, though. It was thick, black liquid, like oil, and yet it pulled the glass to its lips. "I am assuming that you are the final spirit?" One asked and the creature lowered his glass and left it on the table. It stood abruptly and faced One, who could see white fabric under its heavy, black hood. "Are you ready to see the consequences of you actions?" His voice was dim, almost containing a colder tone as though it did not believe that One had learned or changed from his last visits.

One solemnly nodded and the male tilted his head briefly. "Very well." Then a small half-bow with a hand braced against his own chest. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Future." He moved closer and touched One's shoulder, his grasp still and incredibly hot, like heated metal. Then he turned the male around, moving methodically as he gestured to the curtain that burst past them. However, there was no window or walls beyond the curtains, just an empty, snowy scene.

With the other two Ghosts One hadn't actually felt the snow, but here he did. Here the world was cold and his feet and ankles protested being in the snow. He glanced around before he realized where he was. From the iron gates behind him and the large gravestones, lit with candles and trinkets, he could tell that he was in the graveyard. He slowly started ahead, looking around for the Ghost of Christmas Future and soon saw a figure up ahead. "Hello?" He called as he climbed the steps hidden under the snow, "Is that you?"

It took until the moment that he was only feet away that he realized it wasn't the Ghost. Instead, he was staring at the back of Nine, his clerk, staring at something ahead. "Nine?" he asked and came closer, starting to step around Nine to see what he was looking at. That was when he saw it and he felt true coldness in his depths. There was a grave, simple and carved with mere words and nothing more, set with its own display. A few lit candles that Nine must have lit before the gravestone and the gravestone clearly read; **"Here lies None. Loving Brother and tender soul. May he remain in our hearts."**

"Oh dear God." One muttered, only to feel those same, burning hands upon his shoulders. The Ghost of Christmas Future leaned in from behind and whispered into his audio receptor. "After years of dealing with being paid little, working for you like a slave, Nine reaps his reward when his twin finally succumbs to his illness. Brought on because you could not spare enough to help him." One spoke up, "I didn't know… He never told me." There was a soft exhale, almost of exasperation, "Would you have done a thing? No. Of course not."

He pulled back, "We're not finished. It is time to you to see where you will be when Nine suffers for your sins." He brushed past One and stood beside Nine briefly, almost as though he was watching him, then looked to One. "Turn around." One blinked in confusion and did so. What he was met with was a new sight, a new grave. It was cracked and falling apart, covered in dead weeds and thick snow, and One approached it. Kneeling down he brushed the plants and ice away before reeling in dread. He knew what he was going to see, but actually seeing it was much worse.

It only said "**One**" and had no further description. He completely dropped to his knees at the sight and stared upon it. "This is my fate." He voiced, a soft hitch in his voice, before turning back and blurting out to the Ghost of Christmas Future who now stood above him. Staring down at him with an empty gaze. "Wait, there's still time! I can still fix what I have done!" The Ghost tilted his head, "Fix? Oh no. You cannot fix this. You cannot fix years of greed in a spur of the moment. It has rotted down by now, eating into your core, into your soul."

"No, it hasn't!" One exclaimed, "Give me a chance! I-I can stop this! I can redeem myself yet! Please!" The Ghost's black cape billowed around them both and as now starting to stretch around him, darkening the world. The Ghost of Christmas Future's faced darkened, and his optics began to glow a faint red, a deadly red. "How does it feel to know your actions caused so many others to suffer? Is it fulfilling? Will your gold fill the void you have created? A coffin of gold."

"No!" One protested as the world went completely dark and began to struggle against the dark cloth, away from the glowing red eyes. "There's- No! I can change! I can fix this! I just need a little more time!" His back struck against something hard, the ground, and he rolled around in the dark cloth. "No!" he cried in terror before grabbing out of the cloth and dragging his way out. At that moment, he stopped short, staring around in alarm. He was back in his bedroom, lying on the floor and enwrapped in his blanket.

He tugged himself out of the blanket and rushed to the curtains, throwing them open to see the light of morning fill in. It was Christmas day. "There's still a chance." One muttered, pulse racing, nearly overjoyed, "I still have time. I can make Julius proud yet." He dressed quickly and filled his pockets with as much wealth as he possibly could. Then, before the servants could even notice him, he was out the door and into the snow. Church bells rung of Christmas service, children's laughter could be heard, the world was joyous; finally One could see it as well.

First he headed straight to the butcher down the street who was sure to be selling something that he would need. His tracks were stopped when he nearly ran into another at the street corner. He recognized the short male before he nearby walked into him. "Oh, I beg your pardon! You I just dropped my…" Two trailed off at the sight of One, gasping in surprise, "One, Merry Christmas." He greeted and, to his even firmer surprise, One gave him an actual smile. "It has been too long, Two. Merry Christmas."

The Inventor was obviously thrilled about the Leader's sudden change of heart and good mood, "Where are you off to today? You were never one to be very fond of Christmas." One decided to spare the tale of the Ghosts and shortened it, "I have simply been reevaluating my life and my relationships and have decided that, perhaps, it is time to give back to those who have given to me." The other smiled and he continued, "But not before I take even more. Please tell Five that I will be attending dinner tonight with you both, as long as my invitation still stands."

"Yes, of course." Two replied, "I was hoping you would come I- One, you wouldn't believe how long it has been." One leaned in a bit closer, pulling the shorter to him by linking an arm around his frame, "Much too long." Then he pulled back. "Tonight we will speak like we did in old times. I hope we can share a nice bottle of wine, my treat naturally, and, perhaps, a bed." Not Two was caught off guard and One revealed in the flustered look. "I think that can be arranged. Let me go tell Five." He started off before coming back, "Well, first let me find my keys."

He soon found them in the snow and left as One entered the butcher shop. He picked out the largest hen he could find, apparently the turkeys were bought out the night before, and headed next to the toy store. There he grabbed dolls, puzzles, and other things of value at the present. He exited the shop carrying both loads and began to head down the street farther. He had only one more stop before he headed to his destination. Once again the homeless shelter was out on the street, accepting donations, and One bluntly walked up.

Seven, again, was manning it and clearly looked confused at why One was walking towards them carrying large bags. He let them down as he spoke, "I will start by acknowledging that I was a fool yesterday. What I said was completely deceitful and unneeded. I apologize." She seemed to accept it enough to let him keep going, but didn't say anything. Maybe she was just shocked that he actually returned to apologize and for that he wouldn't blame her. "It has come to my attention that I have much more wealth then one man would ever need."

He reached into his jacket pockets for the gold that he hadn't spent at the previous stores and began to drop it onto the table. Now her optics went wide at the sight of all the gold. "Make sure they all have an excellent dinner," One insisted before heading off, "And Merry Christmas." Surprisingly, she did respond this time, "Yes, thank you, Merry Christmas to you as well!" Now there as only his destination remaining and he hurried down the icy street. Soon he arrived at the same dilapidated shack as the Ghost of Christmas Present had taken him to.

He rapped on the door quickly before waiting for someone to answer. Soon he heard footsteps before the door opened, "Merry- Ah!" Nine saw One and cried out in alarm before recovering, "Sir, I didn't expect you to come over. Here, I got you laundry finished." That's when one spoke up, "That is of no importance. I have come to bring you a reward for your years of service." Nine was still perplexed greatly, "Reward?" He let One in, though, and One could see that the rest of the family was present, circling the fire and trying to stay warm.

"Everyone, this is One, my boss." Nine smiled a bit lopsidedly as he shut the door and One lugged himself to the table, dropping the smaller bag upon it. "Nine, would you be a gent and address this for me?" Nine nodded and approached, expecting more laundry, but opening it to see in alarm that it was a large hen, "One, is this-?!" One waved it off, "Unfortunately not. They were completely out of turkeys. I did manage to find a large enough hen to suffice." Nine was thrilled with whatever bird it was and None limped over to see it.

Then One turned to Three and Four, "These would be yours. Merry Christmas." The girls took the heavy bag only to have it drop heavily to the ground. They looked at each other in confusion before opening the bag and their faces alit with smiles at the mounds of toys pouring out. They started digging in and None spoke up, "He brought things for the girls!" He sounded elated and limped to One, "Thank you. I'm None, sorry we haven't met before." One greeted him accordingly, "I am One and it is a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine. After all, you brought the hen." He pointed out before limping to the table, "Here, Nine, let me fix it." Nine seemed unsure, but None was insistent. After he was promptly dismissed, Nine approached One, "Sir, I must say I'm… Really confused. I thought you hated Christmas." One nodded solemnly, "I… I have had a change of heart." He reached out and rested a hand on his clerk's shoulder, "I have been quite unfair to you for the past years and I am truly sorry. Until yesterday I knew nothing of your current situation."

Nine looked in the direction None went and One admitted, "An acquaintance of mine said that None needed some sort of surgical procedure." Nine nodded slowly, "He… Yeah, he does. I should have enough saved by next June if I'm careful." The Leader shook his head firmly, "No, no. That will not do at all. Instead, I have a proposition for you." He straightened, "You put away enough to help get you into a better home and worry only about that. I will fund the surgery."

Nine's look was beyond simple shock. He looked almost like he was about to start dry sobbing and choked out a dull, "Really? But… But it is…" One shook his shoulder and gave a small, reassuring smile, "The price does not matter. I will tell Two while at dinner tonight and we will get the surgery arranged as soon as possible." Then his breath was taken away the second that his was squeezed firmly. Nine was hugging him and, even though feeling awkward, One didn't exactly feel bad. He hadn't had much physical contact in the years and only now realized that it actually felt nice.

He gently returned the embrace, holding Nine like his child, his child that he only now was able to see he had. "Now, now. It was the least I could do." He knew, from past experience, that he could do even less, but ignored that and separated them, "Yes, and you will be getting a raise as well for all of your hard work, but don't take this as an indication to work less." Nine shook his head, "Of course not." He was smiling uncontrollably before he noticed None, "Can I tell him?" One nodded, "Of course."

Nine went to do that and One sat before the fire as the twins were starting a puzzle. He soon was roped in and trying his hardest not to lose his mind with a stubborn piece that refused to stay in any of the allotted spots. When None heard the news he hobbled over and hugged One as well, the Leader being gentle with him when he realized that he too wouldn't outright end the embrace on his own. They soon got the hen ready and immediately insisted that One stayed, which he decided to do anyway as he had fled his home without any substance in the morning.

Upon sitting at the head of the table by the warm fire, an actual meal before them, the siblings were obviously overwhelmed and gave thanks promptly. Especially to One himself. "How does that saying go?" None murmured and Nine was questionable, "Which one?" His twin paused, "That one about Creator giving blessings to all?" One chimed in, "'God rest ye merry gentlemen'?" None shook his head, "No, that was a song… Let's just say;" He lifted his cup in cheers, "Creator bless us, every one."

_**FIN**_

* * *

**Mable: Here's a few fun facts:  
Firstly, the ghost of Jacob Marely has been changed to 'Eugene', who is actually modelled around none other than Eugene Krabs from Spongebob.  
Secondly, One's maid, Mary Anne, is named after the White Rabbit's maid in Alice in Wonderland.  
The Ghost of Christmas Past is Six's counterpart.  
The Ghost of Christmas Present is Eight's counterpart.  
The Ghost of Christmas Future is Child's counterpart. Child's first appearance was in 'Child' and more importantly 'Souls Run Deep'.  
None is Nine's twin introduced in 'Forgotten'. As Nine was so young, I didn't feel it would be complete believable that he had a wife and children.  
Merry Christmas everyone! Just the same, if you'd like, I also have another Christmas fic which is a parody of the Nutcracker that I hope you try out. ^-^**


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